


Capsaicin

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Rainbow Marbles [64]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Castiel, Broken Sam, Cock & Ball Torture, Crying Castiel, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensation Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set several months in the future. Sam knows he'll regret it in the morning, but right now he thinks that Castiel is beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capsaicin

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Dub-con and borderline/implied torture.

He’s beautiful like this. Beautiful always; beautiful when he’s asleep, beautiful when he smiles, most beautiful of all when he cries. That thought was foreign at first, but now he knows it to be true.

 

He’d always admired Castiel. Always respected him. And back in the old days, he’d have been happy to watch if and when – when, he told himself, it _would_ have happened eventually, he’s sure of it – Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass and admitted he had feelings for the then-angel. He’d have been proud – _was_ proud – to call Cas his ally, and, more than that, his friend. (Friend. He rolled the word around in his head. F-f-friend. He’d had some of those, long and long ago, back before he’d given up on the dream. Cas was the last friend he ever had. Was the last friend he’d _ever_ have.)

 

He hadn’t given much thought to Castiel’s appearance. Sure, he’d noticed how handsome he was once or twice, but he never lingered on Castiel’s features, at least not the way Dean had. He’d had more of a preference for women, and besides, it was obvious that Castiel was Dean’s from the start. Dean’s angel. Dean’s would-be lover. Dean’s _everything_.

 

Even after they’d been thrust together by Dean’s change, they hadn’t been close at first. Sure, they slept in the same bed and did whatever Dean ordered and bathed together and touched each other when Dean bid it and saw each other’s naked forms all day long, but it never went beyond that. In the first three days, they’d been friends, still. Allies, even, plotting how to escape without killing Dean and bonding together to hide from the demon and to draw devil’s traps to ward him away. Then Cas had broken and they’d drifted apart.

 

Then Cas had taken his hand and led him down the road to brokenness and they’d fallen in love somewhere along the way. (Sometimes he questioned where to draw the line between _love_ and _necessity_ in his more lucid moments, but he always concluded it was love because it had to be. It _had_ to be love. Love, and nothing else.)

 

Now, Castiel is everything to him. He’d worship Cas, if he could. He’d write sonnets about his beauty. He’d spend hours kissing him. He’d spend days mapping his skin. He’d willingly drown in his eyes. He _loves_ Castiel, completely and wholly and utterly, wildly and madly and passionately, eternally and undyingly and _forever._

 

He hates seeing Castiel hurting, and he’d never hurt Castiel himself, and yet... And yet, he loves to see the other man cry. He loves seeing Castiel break down and weep, sob and shudder and shake apart, fall to his knees and whimper and curl up and _scream._ He knows that it’s because something fundamental is broken inside him, but he doesn’t mind.

 

Castiel is crying now, little salty tear tracks curving down his red and blotchy cheeks. He’s sniffling and whimpering and his lip is quivering. (To Sam, it’s the most beautiful sight in the world.) For all the years he’s spent with a glowing halo around his head, he looks like sin now.

 

Capsaicin cream. Odorless. Potent. Long-acting. Capsaicin cream, spread across Castiel’s ass, dabbed upon his hole, deep inside of him, smeared on his cock, leaking into the tip.

 

He knows how much capsaicin oil hurts. How it burns. How it feels like sitting down on fiery coals, or walking through a bonfire, or being branded by hellfire. How it starts out slow and reaches its peak over torturous hours.

 

He suppresses a secret smile. Castiel is going to be _howling_ by the end of the night. 


End file.
